


against my own wanting

by sieges



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Fluff, High School, M/M, alternatively: the perils of first dates, navigating through first loves and high school romances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26359642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sieges/pseuds/sieges
Summary: That space between confessing to your crush and actually dating him.
Relationships: Iizuna Tsukasa/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78
Collections: Haikyuu: Spiker-Setter Week





	against my own wanting

**Author's Note:**

> for spiker setter week day 4: space.

Kiyoomi doesn’t think of the sudden presence that hovers over him until a dainty finger taps the edge of his desk. 

“Sakusa-san,” A gentle voice says. 

He glances up. It’s a few minutes until the end of lunch period, most of their classmates returning inside to prepare for the next subject. Kiyoomi himself has just arrived, and he’d been in the process of pulling out the book from his bag and sorting through his pencil case. Yoshida Hana isn’t someone he’s spoken to beyond a single group project, and there’s nothing distinct about her that makes her memorable in his eyes besides Motoya once commenting that he had a lot of pretty classmates. When Kiyoomi asked, her name was one of the many his cousin had listed down. 

“Yoshida-san,” He greets politely. “Is there something wrong?”

“No.” She shuffles nervously, almost as if she’s scared. Kiyoomi doesn’t know if he’s done anything to warrant that kind of reaction. “It’s about your volleyball club. Iizuna Tsukasa is your captain, right?”

“Yeah.” Suspicion creeps up on him, but his posture relaxes at the mention of Tsukasa’s name, almost like it’s an automatic reaction. They’d spent lunch together, and that had only been minutes ago, but already Kiyoomi's mind drifts towards the memory like it’s been ages and he finds himself wanting to see Tsukasa again. They don’t have practice on Tuesdays. He won’t see him until tomorrow. “What about him?”

“He’s very handsome.”

Kiyoomi blinks. “I know.”

“He seems like a gentleman too,” Yoshida adds. “I mean, if he went all the way here just to drop an underclassman to his room. He must really be a good captain then, caring for the team.”

“He is.” Kiyoomi has no idea where she’s going with this. 

“Yeah.” Yoshida taps her foot, like she’s getting impatient and waiting for _him_ to bring something up even though she’s the one who approached him first. She must seem to give up a few seconds later when he doesn’t pick the conversation back up, because right when he’s about to turn back to his school supplies, assuming the interaction is over, she blurts out, “Do you know if he’s dating anyone?”

Kiyoomi stops. For a moment, he wonders if he misheard her, but the expectant look she gives him tells him that no, what he heard hadn’t been a mistake. This isn’t really a conversation he wants to have, and it would be easy to end it with a simple yes or no, but he does neither. “Why are you asking?”

“He’s handsome and seems like a gentleman. Caring.” Yoshida shrugs. “The kind of guy who would surprise you during a normal lunch together at school by taking you to a hidden spot in the campus garden.” Kiyoomi only barely manages not to pull a face at that. “And then he’d give you an extra bento box because he wanted to make something for you.”

She’s wrong, Kiyoomi thinks, even though she’s right about the first three. Tsukasa is handsome, a gentleman, _and_ caring, but for one, he doesn’t know any hidden spots in the campus garden and doesn't like staying there in the first place because for some reason the bugs are really into him; for another, Tsukasa only knows how to make three dishes and they all take too much time and money he doesn't actually have, so he makes do with whatever he can nab from the corner store before heading to school. 

(When they met up for lunch—nothing that grand or romantic like Yoshida implied, but rather sitting by one of the outdoor benches across their clubroom—it had been Kiyoomi who brought extra food for Tsukasa. A slightly burnt cheese sandwich that Kiyoomi made, but one that made Tsukasa's eyes light up in the most grateful of ways.)

The reply of _no, he’s not like that_ , sits on his tongue, but then, “Is that the kind of thing people do when they date?”

“Technically, yeah.” 

“I don’t think Iizuna-san is dating anyone,” he says. At least, not in the way she’s thinking. The fact that she’s even considering it in the first place causes something unpleasant to stir in Kiyoomi, and it unsettles him. He doesn’t really want to say it, but there’s no other way he can know. “Are you thinking of...”

He drifts off, for once unable to see something ‘till it’s end. She catches what he implies though, and her cheeks turn rosy. “No. It’s not like that. I don’t know him well enough for that.” She laughs nervously. “But also—I don’t know. Maybe later on. It’s not like I can’t get to know him after, right?” 

It’s common to confess to someone you’ve never even talked to with the expectation that they’ll say yes back and work things from there instead of admitting that you like someone _after_ you get to know them more. Personally, Kiyoomi has never seen the appeal. There are times when he finds having to talk to strangers about the smallest of things daunting enough, so conversations about _feelings_ are beyond him. He doesn’t think he’s kind enough to stomach it without wanting to turn away and brush them off as being naive. “I don’t know if that’s Iizuna-san’s thing.”

Yoshida tilts her head, considering. “Then what is his thing?”

Kiyoomi doesn’t exactly know. All he knows is that Tsukasa is a lot kinder than him. All he knows is that his own confession to Tsukasa wasn’t rooted in wanting to know more about him, but to _be_ more. All he knows is the quiet unassuming way of an admittance—approaching Tsukasa as he’d been in the process of slipping his shoes inside the locker during a cold morning, Kiyoomi with nothing to offer but a simple letter made more because it was tradition than for anything else, and the way Tsukasa took it from his hands gently but with certainty, replacing it with the warmth of his own palm. There had been people around them, but no one was looking. At that moment, Kiyoomi wondered if this was the feeling of being the only two people in the entire world. 

“Nothing that grand or romantic, I think,” Kiyoomi says. 

"Oh. Okay then."

Yoshida sounds disappointed. For some reason, Kiyoomi thinks he understands. 

* * *

A week later, after classes, Motoya insists that they hang by the rooftops just so they’ll know why so many of the cool kids like spending their time there. Kiyoomi doesn’t want to because the cell service is shitty, but there’s an hour until practice starts, the indoor court is locked, and the third-years still have classes. Motoya lays out a blanket like they’re at a picnic and gives Kiyoomi the answers to his math homework. Kiyoomi doesn’t complain. 

The conversation that flits between them is mindless, something Kiyoomi isn’t really thinking twice about because he knows Motoya just wants to fill in the silence and get rid of his boredom. 

“Hey, Kiyoomi,” Motoya starts. “How come you were busy last Saturday?”

“I wasn’t busy,” Kiyoomi replies. “You called me at _five_ in the morning asking if I wanted to eat pre-packaged pancakes outside a grocery store.”

Motoya just stares at him. “And?”

“I was with Iizuna-san. He went back to Yamanashi for the weekend. I saw him off by the station.”

Tsukasa does this one a month, and it’s always just for a single weekend. It’s barely an entire day, and though Kiyoomi personally doesn’t see the practicality of it, he also understands that family is something Tsukasa holds special to his heart, no matter how unconventional his is—two aunts, three tiny turtles, and a stray cat that he says has taken a liking to him even though Kiyoomi is pretty sure, even without having met said cat, that it only stops by Tsukasa’s house just to be fed. 

“God, you guys are gross.” Motoya wrinkles his nose. “It’s barely been a month and you’re already acting like boyfriends.”

Kiyoomi frowns. “We’re not. I’ve been doing that even before.” 

Motoya lets out a strangled noise. “That’s even _worse_.”

Kiyoomi ignores him. Accompanying Tsukasa to the train station and seeing him off has never been something Kiyoomi considered as the kind of thing boyfriends do, just the kind of thing Kiyoomi wanted to do because Tsukasa wanted to spend more time with him and Kiyoomi liked that, having someone who cared enough and that it was Tsukasa, of all people. 

Yesterday, he leafed through a book on relationships and learned that dates are a prerequisite to becoming boyfriends, and they haven’t gone on a single one, so by extension, they’re not. It’s not that big of a deal considering that it’s been less than a month and they’re busy with schoolwork and training, but the thought rests at the back of Kiyoomi’s mind regardless—the scenery of meeting Tsukasa in front of the pet shop the latter is so fond of because he likes the puppies on display and Kiyoomi bringing nothing but flowers, only to find out that Tsukasa had thought of doing the same, bringing out his own bouquet to give Kiyoomi. Settling at a nearby park and having a picnic, the flowers resting on the blanket they sit on, surrounded by the food they’ve prepared, their hands, innocently only centimetres apart. 

(Never mind the fact that cooking is troublesome. Never mind that people might stare. Never mind that flowers are expensive. It’s what they symbolize that matters: the tradition of offering something associated with showing love, and more importantly—the way Tsukasa’s face would light up with delight and amusement at the silliness of having the same train of thought. Unfamiliar, but something Kiyoomi would like to grow used to. Yielding because it’s dynamic, prone to change because he is human. The kind of thing that makes Kiyoomi feel like he’s lifting off and becoming a bit closer to reach something as unattainable as the sky.)

Nothing that grand or romantic, but important nonetheless. Like they’d be the only two people in the world. 

“Why are you smiling,” Motoya asks, cutting through Kiyoomi’s thoughts. “You’re definitely thinking of our captain, aren’t you.”

“No,” Kiyoomi replies mildly. “I’m thinking about how a chicken could write better than you.”

Motoya sticks his tongue out at him. The minutes tick by in silence because Motoya gives up on talking to him and chooses to listen to music instead. Right when they’re about to leave because training should start soon, the door swings open and Tsukasa steps out. 

“There you guys are,” he says, and then the expression on his face grows brighter when his eyes rest on Kiyoomi. It’s obvious enough that Motoya gags, and Kiyoomi wonders if this is a recent development from Tsukasa, or if he’s always looked at him like that and he’d been none the wiser this entire time. “Let’s go. Coach wants us to do drills early.”

“You didn’t have to pick us up,” Kiyoomi tells him. “It’s not like we would’ve been late.”

“I know,” Tsukasa says. “But I wanted to catch you before we made it to the court.”

“Why?”

Tsukasa shrugs. “Why not?”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes at Tsukasa’s half-answer, but he isn’t actually annoyed, because Tsukasa doesn’t do it to be cheeky. This is just how he is. He’s never been easy to read, but Kiyoomi doesn’t mind having to learn. 

“I swear you two are breaking some kind of unsaid rule in the club,” Motoya grumbles, shoving past them to get to the door. “Just because you’re captain and you’re ace doesn’t mean you get special privileges or—”

“Komori,” Tsukasa calls out. “I got that number of that Suna kid you were so interested in.”

“—actually, it makes sense that you two are together.” Motoya amends casually as he makes his way down. His voice echoes in the narrow stairwell. “They always did say that spikers and setters have something special going on between them.”

“I don’t want to know,” Kiyoomi says, once Motoya has completely disappeared from view. 

Tsukasa laughs. Kiyoomi’s gaze flickers to the crinkles in his eyes at the gesture. “By the way, are you free after practice?”

Kiyoomi understands what this is: an opportunity. In the book he read on relationships, it said that opportunities are the kinds of things one makes, not finds. Kiyoomi understands this is what Tsukasa is doing: making one.

Kiyoomi also understands this: that he can’t take it. 

He shakes his head. “I have a test tomorrow. Sorry.”

“Aw. It’s fine,” Tsukasa says, but despite the clear disappointment, he doesn’t sound that upset. Kiyoomi doesn’t know how Tsukasa makes it seem so easy, just to accept these emotions and move on, when every time it happens to Kiyoomi, he has to take it in his hands and pull them apart until he understands it to the barest of detail so he knows what to do about it. He doesn’t know what it’s like, to just _feel_ feelings. “There’s always going to be a next time.”

 _Will there be_ , a part of Kiyoomi can’t help but wonder, except that’s a stupid thought. Opportunities are made, not found. He’s not going to find the image of buying a bouquet of flowers and the bright look on Tsukasa’s face; he has to make it. And there will be a time for that. He just has to make it, somehow. It just can’t be today. 

“You’re frowning,” Tsukasa points out. “I didn’t expect you to be so worked up over it. Studying is important.”

“I’m not. And I know it is,” Kiyoomi insists, and mostly, he doesn’t feel bad, because studying _is_ important, and it’s what takes priority over everything else besides volleyball. Tsukasa isn’t saying this just for the sake of it; he’s been in honor’s roll for his three years in Itachiyama while Kiyoomi’s grades, admittedly, are barely scraping the above average tier to make him qualified to apply for good universities. 

Mostly, he doesn’t feel bad, but it doesn’t change the fact that a small portion of him drapes itself in shame for not being able to meet halfway with the hand Tsukasa extends for their relationship to go somewhere. Motoya’s right when it’s barely been a month since Kiyoomi’s confessed, but how many couples have been able to achieve that much in such a short span of time? Kiyoomi and Tsukasa have only held hands once, and that had been for a single minute. 

“Then stop making that face,” Tsukasa chides. “It’s cute.”

“You know I hate being called that.”

“I know.” Tsukasa grins. “Stop making that face, because it’s cute, but you’re supposed to be sexy, and studying is sexy.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s why you need to study. So you _will_ get it.”

There’s barely any logic to his statement, but Kiyoomi licks the canines of his teeth, only barely managing to hide the smile threatening to come out. He manages to pretend like he’s trying to suppress a sigh. “Let’s just go before we miss the drills.”

Unlike Kiyoomi, Tsukasa simply continues smiling. The stairwell isn’t made to fit two growing boys, but they make do, one leading the other, arms brushing. 

“I’m sorry,” he finds himself saying again. Tsukasa just gives him a confused look. “I really want to.”

Tsukasa doesn’t grace him with a reply. Instead, he lifts his hand and Kiyoomi takes it without thinking. This time, it lasts a lot longer. 

* * *

The opportunity comes about on a weekend. Kiyoomi casually asks two days before post-training if Tsukasa wants to go somewhere with him, and the opportunity, this time around, falls perfectly into place when Tsukasa says yes. He sounds more enthusiastic than Kiyoomi anticipates, almost like something had come to mind and Kiyoomi’s offer was perfect timing, and Kiyoomi ends up throwing out all his plans out the window to ask if there’s anything Tsukasa specifically wants to do. 

“Yeah.” Tsukasa says, and he doesn’t elaborate, but Kiyoomi has to go because he has a curfew to reach and decides to leave what they’ll be doing on Saturday entirely up to Saturday. It’ll make a nice surprise to him anyway, Kiyoomi thinks, and that’s romantic, and he likes the thought of it; besides, maybe this is Tsukasa extending a hand halfway for them to connect, his own contribution to balancing this thing they’re starting to call a relationship. 

Except—

“I think we should buy the six-pack deal rather than the eight.” Tsukasa is saying. “I don’t want to come back carrying two extras.”

“There’s nothing wrong with extra tissue rolls, and it’s not like you can’t leave them behind,” Kiyoomi replies. “Besides, it’s cheaper if you buy more.”

“It’s an overnight stay,” Tsukasa reminds him, but he’s getting the pack of eight like Kiyoomi told him to. “Will we even need six rolls?”

“Yes,” insists Kiyoomi. “Motoya’s going to start some ridiculous dare with the first-years that involves wasting them. Like he did last year.”

Tsukasa’s eyes flicker to him, noticing the almost snappy attitude Kiyoomi barely seems to be able to contain. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You sound... peeved about something.”

“I feel very strongly about toiletries,” Kiyoomi automatically says, and then suppresses a wince when Tsukasa gives him a weird look, because he knows just as well as Kiyoomi does that no, he doesn’t actually care much about toiletries. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tsukasa replies, though he sets down the pack of tissues in a slow manner, like he’s waiting for Kiyoomi to protest. Kiyoomi doesn’t. “Let’s move onto the next aisle.”

Kiyoomi follows him, feeling a little lost and stupid. His phone vibrates in his pocket. When he checks, scrolling through the group chat messages that are spamming his screen, he spots Motoya’s right on top, asking him directly if things are going well even though one of the first thing Kiyoomi had told him before he left to meet Tsukasa in the mall was to _not_ text him. The book on relationships had an etiquette portion on dating, which Kiyoomi found mildly ridiculous, considering that they seemed like common sense, but it existed nonetheless and he read through it anyway just in case there was something important there that he hadn’t thought of. 

_Try to avoid using your phone to talk to other people when on a date with your significant other._ The pages had said. Before Motoya had dropped Kiyoomi off at the mall so he could meet Tsukasa, he had told his cousin, _don’t text me. I’m not going to reply._

Motoya had snorted at that. _As if you ever reply immediately_. _Have fun with your date._

 _Have fun with your date_ , Motoya had said, except—Tsukasa and Kiyoomi are here now, almost half an hour in the grocery area at the basement floor, and Kiyoomi thinks, rather sullenly, _this is not a date_. 

It’s probably his own fault for being vague about, simply asking if Tsukasa wanted to do anything together over the weekend if he was free instead of directly saying, _do you want to go on a date with me?_ The thought of saying those words felt strange, almost like they wouldn’t be natural and he’d be unnecessarily putting emphasis on something that was technically implied and established, so Kiyoomi had changed his wording at the last minute. Tsukasa had said yes, admitted that he had something in mind, and Kiyoomi let Tsukasa take charge, assuming Tsukasa had a better idea as to how they could spend their upcoming date. 

But what Kiyoomi assumed to be a date turned out to be shopping together for supplies for Itachiyama VBC’s team building next week; and though Kiyoomi wouldn’t have said no if Tsukasa had been a lot clearer or specific about what he planned for them to do, then maybe he wouldn’t have bothered to bring the coupons that had offered a discount on certain flower arrangements in one of the shops in the mall’s third floor. The specific brand of cologne that technically belonged to Motoya that stuck to Kiyoomi’s clothes would not have been necessarily. The subtle but right amount of hair gel he spread out over his hair, trying to make his curly locks look somehow presentable instead of messy, ended up being overkill. 

Luckily, Tsukasa doesn’t seem to notice any of these things. 

So it’s not really a date, and since it’s not really a date, none of the points on the dating etiquette really apply. This is what Kiyoomi tells himself as he pulls out his phone, waiting for Tsukasa to finish paying for all the groceries they’ve purchased. Half of them are an assortment of snacks even though Kiyoomi thinks they’re supposed to be on a strict diet since Nationals are coming up soon, and the other half are supplies meant for the activities they’ll be doing even though he knows from prior experience that they never use all of them. Even though Tsukasa had asked Kiyoomi for his input on the practicality of purchasing most of the items, Kiyoomi understood the importance of maintaining the tradition of over-indulgence for team building that he didn’t insist Tsukasa cut things down. 

Motoya isn’t replying to his text. Kiyoomi is about to ask what happened to him until he sees a new notification popping up, one from Miya Atsumu, the setter from Hyogo that he met in last year’s Youth Training Camp as first-years. Though Kiyoomi frowns, he clicks on the contact anyway. 

**Miya Atsumu** :  
answer the call  
i’m here for reinforcement

 **Kiyoomi** :  
I don’t need reinforcement

He picks up the call anyway. “Where’s Motoya?”

 _“How should I know? I ain’t his babysitter, but he said it was a SOS situation,”_ Atsumu says. Kiyoomi sighs and wonders if he could get away with hanging up without Atsumu calling him again because he’s annoying like that. _“Ain’tcha with that Isu guy right now?”_

“His name is Iizuna-san.”

 _“Izuku-kun’s yer capt’n, right? Man, what’s that like? Don’t think I can ever picture sleepin’ with_ my _capt’n. I could never figure out what’s goin’ on in his head. It’s scary.”_

“It’s Iizuna-san,” Kiyoomi repeats. “And I’m not sleeping with him.”

_“Then why are ya together?”_

“It’s not—” Kiyoomi sighs. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” 

Atsumu pauses. _“Ya sound kinda mopey, Omi-kun. Somethin’ happen? Thought you’d be in a better mood since I heard ya were on a date with yer pretty capt’n at the mall.”_

“It’s not a date. We just went shopping to get stuff for next week’s team-building activity.”

The disappointment must be more obvious than Kiyoomi thought, because Atsumu says, with a little more sympathy, _“I mean, it’s a mall. Nothin’ special ‘bout that. What did ya think was gonna happen?”_

 _A movie date, maybe._ Kiyoomi’s never watched in their cinema house, but he heard from a classmate that the seats were comfortable enough to nap in and the popcorn was reasonably priced and relatively healthy. Halfway through the film they’d probably hold hands again. Kiyoomi might fall asleep if he finds the premise boring and use Tsukasa’s shoulder to rest on. Maybe near the end of the movie Kiyoomi would tell Tsukasa that he needed to go to the bathroom but instead would head elsewhere to buy him something. Use the coupons to buy flowers to surprise him with by the cinema house entrance because the film would’ve been finished. Or maybe a pastry or two because every time Tsukasa would eat a lot of salty foods he’d need something sweet to consume right after. 

The thoughts are just possibilities, passing thoughts he’d wanted to grasp onto but tried to not put much weight into. He just wanted a date, but to actively demand it would feel unnatural, and then it would ruin the illusion of romance that Kiyoomi was trying to achieve, so in the end, he did nothing. 

Instead, what he tells Atsumu is, “I don’t know. Not this.” 

_“Why don’t ya tell ‘im? What, waitin’ for him to catch on? Since when were ya such a girl?”_

“Sexism isn’t a nice color on you.”

Atsumu laughs. _“Whatever. You know I gotta point. It ain’t like ya to keep stuff like that. If ya wanna say somethin’, ya usually just say it.”_

He’s right and it’s grating. But outright telling Tsukasa that he thought that they’d be going on a date today is a humiliating thought because it meant that he _expected_ , and expressing his disappointment will put Tsukasa in a situation of making him feel less for not being able to meet that expectation. Kiyoomi doesn’t see the point in telling Tsukasa when both of them will just feel awkward and miserable about it, for not being on the same page. And there’s no need for Tsukasa to take part of the blame when it’s ultimately _Kiyoomi’s_ fault for misunderstanding the situation, for assuming and wanting something more as if before he hadn’t been content enough with just spending time with Tsukasa, no matter the reason. He doesn’t remember the book saying anything about dealing with scenarios like this, the weight of expectations and its consequences. 

“You barely even know me.”

 _“I don’t exactly need to.”_ Kiyoomi doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. _“Omi-kun, I can tell yer sulkin’.”_

Immediately, Kiyoomi scowls. “I’m not.” 

He’s not. It’s just that—they’ve been here for an hour and they haven’t even held hands yet. Eyeing the grocery bags at Tsukasa’s feet while he’s paying that they’ll have to carry, he doesn’t think they’ll get the chance to. After this, Tsukasa wants them to check out the sports store, so that means more stuff to buy. Opportunities are made, not found, Kiyoomi knows, but he doesn’t see how shopping for new sportswear counts as anything close to romantic, doesn’t know how he can make this _not-date_ into an _actual date_.

 _“I mean, it’s not like ya still can’t buy him flowers or somethin’,”_ Atsumu says. _“Salvage whatever remains of yer failure.”_

“Impractical. Our hands are going to be full.”

Atsumu snorts. _“So what? Givin’ up on makin’ this ideal date of yers a reality already just ‘cause he disappointed ya? ‘Sides, what does_ he _even want?”_

Kiyoomi doesn’t actually know. That’s why he thought it was up to him, to visualize how it would play out and make it a reality. But then Tsukasa took initiative and Kiyoomi had been all too willing to give him control because to him, it meant Tsukasa had a clear picture of what he wanted instead of leaving Kiyoomi to just assume. 

“No,” Kiyoomi replies to Atsumu’s first question. “And he didn’t disappoint me. I just have to lower my expectations. It’s not like he’s a mind reader.” And besides, maybe Kiyoomi is just hoping for too much. It’s not like there isn’t a next time, another chance for him to make things right by taking over so they can have a proper date, but the idea doesn’t sit well with him as much as it initially did. Maybe trying to make it natural in the first place already contradicts itself because trying to do something instead of letting it naturally take its course makes it forced. Kiyoomi doesn’t know anymore. His own thoughts are starting to blur together and it’s hard to sort them out. The book had something about it, saying that this is the gift and consequence of first loves—wanting everything even at the risk of gaining nothing—and even if Kiyoomi tries to stay as rational as possible, he’s a teenager, and Tsukasa is his first everything. “Maybe it’s not meant to be.”

 _“Oh my god, what the fuck are ya sayin’,”_ Atsumu exclaims. “ _This ain’t the end of the world. This is a date, for fucks sake. Stop exaggeratin’ everythin’ and just_ do _somethin’.”_

Big words, coming from who Kiyoomi thinks is one of the most dramatic people in existence. In response, Kiyoomi rolls his eyes and hangs up on him. 

* * *

Team building happens every year and it’s always the current captain’s responsibility to shoulder the logistics and activity plan. There’s no involvement of other teams and by all accounts, it’s really just a glorified sleepover. But it’s one of the highlights of being a member besides getting to play volleyball, and it’s how they always end up in places far from the crowded city life of Tokyo that they surround themselves with on a daily basis and Coach gets a bit too lenient with how they handle expenses and their chaos, so it’s become a tradition Itachiyama intends to keep. 

They take a two hour train ride from Tokyo to Yamanashi, where Tsukasa said they’d be staying at for the annual team building. He lives out of Kofu, the prefecture’s main city, so things are quieter and the air has the scent of something that he describes with a soft voice as _freedom_. Kiyoomi is a city boy through and through, but he sees the way Tsukasa’s eyes light up at the sight of the streets as they make their way to their destination despite the emptiness that surrounds them, and thinks he can understand what Tsukasa means, somewhat. 

The day and activities pass by Kiyoomi in an almost blur despite knowing that he should enjoy every moment of it because this is Tsukasa’s last team building. There’s nothing out of place with their interactions—meeting with Tsukasa’s aunts had even went well, even if it’d bee quick and discreet and his words, _thank you for taking care of Iizuna-san_ , wouldn’t make an eavesdropper think twice—but at some point when they fall into silence that’s supposed to be comfortable, Kiyoomi will just remember how last weekend went, and he’ll feel frustrated enough at the fact that he’s still upset that it didn’t go well that his mind will drift, trying to rationalize with himself. Tsukasa notices at least that much, so he doesn’t say anything and more or less gives him space. 

“This is painful to watch,” Motoya’s muffled voice tells him later that night. The bathroom is shockingly large, enough to fit five people, but they’re the only two inside and they stand side by side, brushing their teeth in front of the sink. The rest of the team is outside, getting ready for bed the same way Motoya and Kiyoomi are. 

“Which is?”

“You and Iizuna-san.” Motoya spits into the sink. 

Kiyoomi pauses briefly and lets the toothbrush hang by the corner of his mouth. “We’re not doing anything.”

“Exactly,” Motoya says. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two and I don’t want to, but you look like you’ve given up with whatever you’ve been trying to do, and it’s depressing to see. You’re like,” He waves a hand. “Brooding.”

“I’m not.” He isn’t. And it doesn’t mean he’s given up. It just means that he’s sorely unprepared for a date if he’d get worked up over the smallest of things that are neither of their fault. So it means taking a step back, recollecting himself before he tries anything again. The thought does make him upset, somewhat, especially because it’s something he really wants to do. A first date. A romantic one—it’s the least someone like Tsukasa deserves from someone like Kiyoomi. “You sound like Miya.”

“Huh.” Motoya considers. “That’s how you know it’s really bad.”

Kiyoomi just flips him off through the mirror. 

The night passes by without fanfare and early morning is more or less the same thing save for the hearty breakfast the entire Iizuna family had whipped up while everyone had been asleep. Kiyoomi doesn’t say anything about how there’s a cup of tea having been brewed even though he knows he’s the only one in the club who likes tea, but he does meet Tsukasa’s eyes at some point during breakfast and accepts the kind beam Tsukasa gives him with his own, slight smile. 

Over noon, the club has all their things packed and they’re about to make the trek to the bus stop before being dropped off at the station once the bus makes its hourly trip around and picks them up. Kiyoomi is about to go with their group, but instead Tsukasa tugs him aside and tells the Coach that they’ll follow because he wants to go on one last errand before returning to Tokyo and he needs Kiyoomi’s help. Though their Coach just gives Kiyoomi a strange look because he can’t hide his perplexed expression, he lets it slide and tells Tsukasa to ensure they both get back safely. 

“What errand?” Kiyoomi asks, as the two of them watch their team walk away until they disappear from view. “But there is something.”

He doesn’t elaborate, but the moment Kiyoomi slips in the passenger seat beside him after insisting they get in the car because they’re going somewhere, Tsukasa fishes something out from his pocket and hands it to Kiyoomi. “Put this on.”

It’s a cloth, one of the ones they used for their blindfold activities for the team building. Kiyoomi’s cheeks immediately color. “Isn’t it a little too early for this?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Kiyoomi brushes off. Atsumu’s fault. That guy drives him nuts. “I’m not wearing this.”

“Trust me.” Tsukasa reassures him. “You won’t regret it.”

Kiyoomi gives him a dubious look but does as asked anyway. It’s not that bad when a small part of him points out, _isn’t this what happens in romance movies?_ _A surprise gesture? A heartfelt moment?_

He has no reply to the voice simply because he’s scared to acknowledge it, scared to risk that feeling of disappointment once more, but it doesn’t stop his heart from treacherously beating anyway, a loud sound that echoes. It makes him wonder if Tsukasa can hear it too. 

A first date. Something romantic. Kiyoomi wonders if he’s allowed to feel that traitorous feeling called expectation, if he’s allowed to hope. He is not immune to the ills of first loves that the book talks about. Is it wrong if he doesn’t necessarily want to be? 

The car ride doesn’t feel long, a ten minute trip based on the amount of songs that blast from the radio they’re able to finish, right before the car comes to a halt and there’s a noticeable sound of the stick shifting gears. Kiyoomi isn’t as bothered with the loss of his vision because Tsukasa’s hand had rested on top of his during the drive, a comforting and warm presence Kiyoomi curled into, and the music held him steady, 70s tracks that made him recall how his parents used to play him songs of that era as a kid to get him to sleep. 

Tsukasa helps him out of the car and down the slightly steep slope carefully, but Kiyoomi can tell, even without seeing, the impatience that vibrates through Tsukasa, as if he’s excited about something. The warmth of his hands dim but Kiyoomi has memorized the sensation well enough to easily recreate it. 

A strong gust of wind blows past them, almost enough to knock him over just from how cold it is. Kiyoomi feels his shoes press against a soft but dry ground, and Tsukasa stops him right as he hears a familiar slosh incredibly close to him before telling him, “Okay. You can remove it now.”

Kiyoomi removes the blindfold. He blinks, letting his eyes adjust to the light before he lets his surroundings sink in. he takes in the quiet waters that stretch to an infinite space he can barely grasp and simultaneously only inches away from his feet, the muted colors of an afternoon horizon, and how there’s not a single living being in sight besides them. 

“Iizuna-san,” Kiyoomi starts. “Where are we?”

“Yamanaka Lake,” Tsukasa answers. The name is familiar. “I wanted to make it up to you.”

“For what?”

“We haven’t gone on a date yet,” Tsukasa says. “And I felt bad for last week.”

 _Last week._ Even though it had been troubling him, it doesn’t stop Kiyoomi from feeling the horror creep up on him. “Fuck,” he swears. “Was it that obvious?”

“Someone may have mentioned something to me,” Tsukasa replies vaguely, which could only mean it was either Motoya, who keeps on acting like he doesn’t want to get involved, or Atsumu, who can’t even get Tsukasa’s name right. Kiyoomi suppresses a sigh. “And I figured,” continues Tsukasa. “That since we were already going to Yamanashi this weekend, we could go on a date here. Eat lunch in that shop up ahead, maybe enjoy the view of Mt. Fuji. All the things you’d want to see on a romantic first date.”

Tsukasa looks to Kiyoomi, waiting for his reaction. The thing is, there are many things he wants to say. He wants to say that there is no view because the sky is covered in clouds. He wants to say that the shop Tsukasa is talking about, stationed right at the center along the lake’s edge, has a closed sign plastered against the door. He wants to say that it’s colder than normal because they’re near the water and too severely under-dressed to handle it. He wants to say that Yamanaka Lake admittedly looks like a poorer version of a beach, which Kiyoomi hates going to in the first place unless it’s summer. 

He wants to say that this is anything but a romantic first date. There’s no awkward but endearing meet-up. There is no picnic basket. There are no flowers.

Instead, what Kiyoomi says is, “Is this your version of an ideal dating spot?”

Tsukasa is quiet, considering the words. “Why? What do you think about it?”

Kiyoomi pauses. “Can I be honest?”

“Sure.”

"It's shitty."

The bluntness doesn’t turn Tsukasa off; instead he just laughs, not at all surprised by the answer. When Kiyoomi looks at him, he realizes that despite his words, despite his thoughts, he isn’t actually upset. 

“Grand or romantic stuff have never been my thing anyway,” Tsukasa eventually says, when he’s calmed down. “There are more important things than that, the way I see it. Like being with you.”

It’s something Kiyoomi remembers he told Yoshida some time ago, when she’d asked. It hasn’t been that long, but he’s startled at the realization that he’s forgotten. Too swamped up in building expectations to reach for a first date because Tsukasa deserved that sort of thing—something perfect, something that met a standard—he’d forgotten that Tsukasa has never been the type to want any of that to be happy. And what Kiyoomi wants, more than anything else, is to be with Tsukasa and see him happy. He doesn’t need a book to tell him that, he doesn't need a created opportunity to remind him. 

“Hey,” Kiyoomi says. Tsukasa glances at him. “Me too.”

They return to Tokyo with the sunset nearing. Opportunities are made, not found, and there are no flowers, no picnics, and no parks. But as they make their way downtown, walking the familiar route that leads to their respective homes, Tsukasa still stops right in front of a familiar pet shop and taps on the display window to catch the puppies’ attention. Kiyoomi watches him with unbridled fondness. What really matters could never be compressed into a three hundred page book, but when Kiyoomi’s hand finds Tsukasa’s, he thinks he understands all that he needs to know. 

**Author's Note:**

> i love this ship sm
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/inarizakicks) // [cc](https://curiouscat.me/sunaosa)


End file.
